Kali sat back in the chair. “You guys make me realize how lucky I’ve been with Bash and Damian. There’s never been another woman in our lives. Just the three of us.”
“Please.” Alex snorted. “You complain about them constantly.”
“Because we’re like an old married couple.”
“No, you’re not,” Alex shot back. “Those two are not the marrying type.”
“Me neither,” she agreed, “which is why our fucked up relationship works.”
Three years ago, Kali had run away from Devil’s Creek. Not even Marcello seemed to know why she left or where she’d gone for all that time.
“If you had to marry one of them,” Alex said, “would you choose Bash or Damian?”
She rolled her shoulders against the chair. “Would it matter? Either way, I would have the same last name.”
“No, I guess not.”
I set my glass on the table, focused on Kali, who looked stunning in a red sundress that flowed down her long thighs. “You must love one of them more.”
“Do you think a mother can love her children equally?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’m not a mother yet.”
“I would imagine it’s like that. You can love more than one person.”
“But can you be in love with both of them?” I wondered aloud.
“I am,” she said with certainty. “And have been for years.”
“I’ll say this,” Alex cut in. “When I had the choice between Luca and Marcello, there was a short time when I thought I was in love with both of them. It wasn’t until after I was with Marcello that I realized I was in love with Luca. Of course, I love Marcello, but it’s different. He’s family. With Luca, my world starts and stops with him. When I thought I lost him at the wedding, I wanted to die, too.”
“That’s real love,” Kali confirmed, glancing over her shoulder as if she were trying to be careful with her words. “I’m not sure if I feel that for either of them.”
“It’s been ten years,” Alex pointed out. “I agree with Rhi. You must love one of them more.”
“Sometimes, I think about leaving them,” she whispered. “They’re so controlling and possessive.”
“Because they’re Salvatores,” Alex said, with laughter in her tone. “It’s in their nature.”
I nodded in agreement.
“Losing their parents at a young age fucked both of them up,” Kali said, her tone soft. “I’m just not sure if I want this life anymore. I wish Marcello would have left me alone and let me stay in France.”
After his three-year search for his adoptive brothers’ girlfriend, Marcello dragged Kali back from a small town in France. He said she tried to run but didn’t get very far in heels.
Someone cleared their throat from a distance. All three of us snapped our heads in the direction of the patio doors. Marcello stood between them, dressed in a black suit that molded to his muscular body. He looked expensive and dangerous and so damn sexy my skin tingled with desire.
Marcello lifted his hand and beckoned me with his index finger. “It’s time.”
Dread filled my belly as I rose from the chair, excusing myself from the table. The girls wished me luck as I walked toward Marcello. He clutched my elbow and steered me into the house, all business, as we strolled down the main hallway with purpose.
Luca was in the sitting room with Sean and my father. He lounged in an oversized leather armchair, a glass of scotch in one hand and a cigar in the other. The three of them drank and smoked like old friends, chatting as if no time had passed. Like I didn’t run from the marriage. My father was on the hook with the Donnellys, which meant Marcello was about to pay a hefty price to make me his wife.
We sat on the couch across from Sean and my dad. Marcello slipped his fingers between mine to steady my shaky hand.
“I want to marry Rhiannon,” Marcello said, his eyes on my father.
Dad’s jaw clenched for a moment. “I already promised her hand to Sean.”
“I asked you here to negotiate,” Marcello fired back. “There must be something you want in return. I want your approval to marry your daughter, but I don’t need it.”
“You do if you want to prevent a war,” Sean growled, his green irises intense. “Rhiannon is mine.”
“Not anymore,” Marcello snapped. “She’s carrying my child.”
I had yet to confirm it with a test.
“Rhiannon?” Dad’s hardened gaze shifted to me. “Is this true?”
“Yes. I’m pregnant with Marcello’s baby.”
I hoped it was true, or we were going to have one hell of a problem on our hands.
Sean glared at Marcello. “You fucked my bride. Got her pregnant.” He shot up from the couch, hands balled into fists at his sides. “This is an act of war.”
Dad threw out his arm in front of the insane Irishman. “Sean, please. We can both get what we want from this deal. I’m sure the Salvatores will agree to our terms.” His eyes moved to Luca, then Marcello. “Isn’t that right?”